


Surf & Turf

by kittenwrath



Series: Gruff but Tender [2]
Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Explicit Language, F/M, Flirting, Misunderstandings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2020-01-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:01:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22269835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenwrath/pseuds/kittenwrath
Summary: @daddyzanchez from Tumblr requested the following:Rick and you are out to dinner, you know, for once, and the waiter mistakes your table with another and he serves a glass of champagne with an engagement ring in it and Rick goes into full-on panic!
Relationships: Rick Sanchez/Original Female Character(s), Rick Sanchez/Reader
Series: Gruff but Tender [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1603009
Kudos: 72





	Surf & Turf

**Author's Note:**

  * For [daddyzanchez](https://archiveofourown.org/users/daddyzanchez/gifts).



> NOTE: This story was originally contained in a large Rick fic archive post called "Gruff but Tender". That large archive post has been deleted and all the stories have been re-posted separately. Thanks!

When Rick asked if I wanted to go out to dinner that evening, I groaned in protest. It’s not that I don’t like going out to dinner. I like to eat just as much as the next girl. No, my objection was that Rick’s chosen venue was always the same, no exceptions.

“Rick, I _really_ don’t want to go to Shoney’s _again_. There are only so many bottomless cups of coffee I can drink and cherry tomatoes I can eat from the salad bar.”

“There you go, making assumptions. And – and you know what the say about assumptions. Something in – a dick up your ass or whatever.”

“That’s not the saying and you know it,” I replied, slipping my shoes on. If he had plans for another restaurant, he didn’t mention it. He only shuffled me into the ship and whizzed off into the night.

On the way there, I busied myself on my phone, playing mindless games. So, I was a bit surprised when we landed in a parking lot that didn’t contain the large glowing Shoney’s sign. In fact, this place looked fancy – much too fancy for our current attire.

“What are we doing here?” I asked as he smirked at me from the driver’s seat.

“Dinner, duh.” He then exited the ship and began walking toward the entrance. I sighed and did the same. 

“We aren’t dressed properly for a place like this, Rick. I really wish you’d have told me.”

“Who – who gives a shit,” he said, pulling open the large wooden door. He actually held it open for me instead of immediately walking in himself. I eyed him warily and stepped inside. 

Just as I had predicted, nearly everyone in the dimly lit restaurant was in either business or formal attire. I felt my cheeks heat up when the maître d’ fixed us with a pointed look of distaste.

“Can I help you?” he asked in the most dismissive tone he could muster.

“Yeah –” Rick replied, walking straight up to the podium and pressing his face only inches from the maître d’s, “– reservation for Sanchez.” He then craned his head down and jabbed his finger on the reservation book next to his name. 

He’d made a _reservation_? Now I was not only utterly confused, but further annoyed that he hadn’t warned me.

“Ah, yes. Table for two. Right this way.”

As we followed the maître d’ through the maze of tables, I couldn’t help but notice all of the couples who appeared to be on romantic dates – many of them holding hands and looking lovingly into each other’s eyes. I mentally scoffed at their vulgar displays, having never been the touchy-feely type, especially in public. Again, I wondered why Rick had picked this particular restaurant, my suspicion mounting.

“Here we are. Your waiter will be with you shortly,” the maître d’ explained with a flourish of his hands before pulling out my chair and then bowing to leave. Rick narrowed his eyes as he walked away.

“I-I-I think that guy was checkin’ out your tits,” Rick said loudly, pulling his own chair out to plop down gracelessly. I hid my eyes in humiliation as I slowly sat and scooted myself up to the table. 

“Get what – whatever you want, babe. I just sold – unloaded shit ton of weapons to my arms dealer.”

Picking up the menu, my eyes bugged out of my skull when I saw the exorbitant prices. What the hell was going on here?

“Rick, the cheapest thing on the menu is $50 and it’s an appetizer!” I whisper screamed at him from across the table. He just smirked at me and opened his own menu to peruse the options. Something was definitely up. Well, then – I’d bite. I’d bite hard.

When our waiter finally arrived, Rick unceremoniously cut him off as he began to recite the daily specials.

“Uh, none of that. I-I-I’ll have the surf and turf. Rare, lots – lots of butter.”

“You mean the six ounce filet mignon and the Maine lobster tail?” the waiter inquired.

“Yeah – yeah whatever,” Rick answered with a dismissive wave of his hand.

When the waiter turned to me, I said, “I’ll have the same. Medium rare. And, could we also get a bottle of the ‘89 Pinot Noir?”

The waiter’s eyes went as wide as saucers when he realized that this poorly dressed couple would end up being his best tip of the evening.

“Yes, yes, of course Madame!”

As the waiter left, I fixed my gaze on Rick with a self satisfied smirk. However, to my ire, he wasn’t the least bit fazed. I had just ordered a $250 bottle of wine and Rick was casually inspecting his fingernails.

“Are you trying to get laid or something?” I asked, crossing my arms. 

“Baby, I’m _allllways_ tryin’ to get laid,” he said, wiggling his unibrow suggestively. I couldn’t help but snicker. Sometimes he was too cute for his own good.

As the evening rolled on, Rick and I stuffed ourselves silly and drank the entire bottle of wine. I had half expected him to stop the waiter from uncorking the vintage bottle at the last second, but he only told him to fill his glass up to the rim. And, of course, he made me order dessert – chocolate pudding for each of us.

“This was great, Rick,” I said with a giggle, the wine already going to my head. “Thank you.”

“You know I-I-I _do_ expect to get laid, though, right?” he asked, squeezing my knee under the table. I jumped in my seat with a squeak, causing the other restaurant guests around us to flick their eyes in our direction.

“Hmmm,” I hummed in response, toeing one of my slip on tennis shoes off and discreetly lifting my foot up his chair to rest against his crotch. Now it was his turn to jump, his eyes wide. 

“Fuck, you – you’re such a naughty girl. I’m gonna eat you alive,” he growled, grinding his growing erection against my foot. I felt a thrill shoot through my body and settle deep down in my cunt in anticipation. “Where’s the fuckin’ check?” he all but shouted, scanning the dark room for our waiter. 

However, instead of the check, the waiter gracefully strolled up with two glasses of champagne resting on a silver platter.

“Compliments of the house,” the waiter said, smiling wide at the both of us.

“Um, okay…” I hedged, reaching for a glass. But, before my hand could close around the one closest to me on the platter, the waiter stopped me to turn the platter around in his hands so that the other glass was within my reach.

“Excuse me, Madame,” he said with a nervous chuckle. I furrowed my brow but took the other glass nonetheless.

“What the – hell, I – I won’t turn down free booze,” Rick said, snatching the remaining glass. The waiter gave us both one more wide smile before bowing and leaving us be.

“What do you think that was about?” I asked, nodding my head in the direction of the waiter.

“Who cares? I bet I can drink this faster – before you can drink yours,” Rick said, raising the glass to his lips. 

“Oh, you’re so on!” I said, doing the same. “We go on three. One… two…” and then I rose my glass and took an enormous gulp, downing half.

“Oh, you cheatin’ bitch!” Rick exclaimed before trying to catch up. Of course, he still won, having years of speed drinking practice under his belt. I closed my eyes and started to grin around the glass as I tried to finish the rest in one more gulp, feeling it dribble down the side of my mouth. And, as soon as I felt the last bit slide down my throat, I also felt something else – something solid – slide down as well, and lodge there.

I was choking. I couldn’t breathe and I was trying frantically to cough with no result. Instinctively, my hands flew to my neck, my nails clawing at my throat.

“What the fuck?” I heard Rick say from what felt like far away. 

“Oh my god, she’s choking!” one of the other restaurant guests yelled, pointing at me. I had screwed my eyes shut while attempting to draw a breath but snapped them open just as Rick jumped from his seat and ran around the table to get to me. 

Forcefully, he pulled me up and began giving me the Heimlich maneuver, grunting in my ear as he literally lifted me from the ground with each forceful press to my abdomen. After the third press, I felt the offending object fly from my throat and out of my mouth to land with a small clink on the table. As I sucked in a hard breath and coughed, the waiter ran up with a worried look on his face. 

“Oh my! Oh, Madame, I am so sorry! This is the first time I’ve delivered an engagement ring and thought the champagne would be romantic!”

“WHAT!!!” Rick screamed, nearly falling over.

I took in the exchange before me as I continued to violently cough, convinced that I hadn’t heard what I thought I’d heard.

“What the fuck? Engagement ring?” I choked out, looking at Rick with pure horror coloring my features. I glanced at the table and, sure enough – a diamond ring. I started to laugh. _Hard_.

“This is some kind of joke, right?” I coughed again, shaking my head. “You got that from a bubble gum machine, didn’t you?”

Rick’s face was frozen in terror, like he’d literally seen a ghost. I laughed again.

“No, seriously. Rick? You’re fucking with me!” I said, starting to get worried. Was this for real?

Rick held up his hands, shaking his head. “No. No, no, no.”

I did a double take between him and the ring before speaking again. “Rick, um, yeah… I’m not ready for that right now. Or, like, _ever_.” 

“NO!” Rick shouted. “Neither – neither am I – _fuck!_ – NO! What the _FUCK?!_ ”

“Um, hi. Excuse me.” A young man appearing to be in his early twenties approached the table, waving meekly. “I think that’s mine,” he clarified, pointing toward the diamond ring still resting on the table. 

“Oh my god! Thank _GOD_!” I sighed with relief, sagging back into my chair. Rick still appeared horrified but stumbled back over to his chair to do the same.

The waiter continued to apologize profusely to the young man whose ring he misdelivered as his girlfriend sobbed at their table over her ruined perfect proposal. Rick and I remained silent until our check was finally arrived. Pulling his wallet from his lab coat, he shoved $500 in the check folder and motioned for me to get up. 

When we entered the ship, he sat there with his hands wrapped around the steering wheel but didn’t start the ignition. 

“Everything okay?” I asked, placing my hand on his knee. He looked over at me with an expression that suggested that he’d forgotten I was even there.

“Yeah. Uh, why did you lose it – freak out so much?” he asked.

“Are you serious? I almost choked to death on a diamond ring!” I laughed, hoping it would lighten the mood.

“The idea – t-t-the thought is really so horrible?” I knew what he was referring to and suddenly felt guilty.

“Rick, stop. You and I both know we aren’t marriage material. What we have going now is fine – it’s great! Marriage though? Besides, you weren’t exactly cool as a cucumber yourself,” I pointed out.

He just narrowed his eyes and finally started the ignition. As he lifted us from the ground and steadied the junkie craft in the air, he continued –

“It’s our – our anniversary, you know. Of when we – of the first time we fucked.”

I turned my head toward him with a look of awe. He had actually remembered that? I hadn’t…

“So, that’s what this dinner was about? Your attempt at romance?”

“Shut up” he said, pulling his flask to take a swig. “I-I-I still expect to get laid.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s fair.”

**_The End._ **


End file.
